


Weakness

by RadioactiveRoulette



Series: What Lies Below [9]
Category: Baldur's Gate, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), baldur's gate 3
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Spoilers, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioactiveRoulette/pseuds/RadioactiveRoulette
Summary: Cyderi is getting awfully tired of the constant judgement.
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Astarion/Charname (Baldur's Gate), Astarion/Female Charname (Baldur's Gate)
Series: What Lies Below [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985663
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Weakness

**Author's Note:**

> Minor spoilers - no direct dialogue - for the Gur Hunter conversation and subsequent choice presented in the Swamp. This was actually two pieces I threw together, so I might go back and do more editing after I figure out what my brain wants to do.
> 
> I have three loves in life and at least two of them are writing bratty bastard banter.

Meals around the campfire have become commonplace as the group forges tenuous connections - that false sort of forced companionship slowly bleeding into something slightly more genuine. There is only so much one can reasonably bond in a tenday, but Cyderi will take what she can get. She raises her mug in response to Wyll's recollection of his favorite monster hunts, glancing around the fire. Shadowheart and Gale seem to be reasonably amused (if not entirely sold) by the tale. Lae'zel is looking over the Blade with a small cant to her brow, which might as well be a full blown grin for the githyanki warrior. Astarion is frowning slightly, hand gently swirling a cup every so often - looking for the world like he's trying to read the future in the dregs of cheap wine.

Cyderi stands quietly so as not to disturb the others, passing around the fire to sit by Astarion's side. He looks up at her, startled out of his thoughts, and she watches his face flicker through a thousand variations before settling on a bemused sneer. 

"Something bothering you?" Her voice has always been low, but she pitches it a bit deeper still to keep their conversation private. 

"What ever could be wrong? You do know how I live for your little warlock friend going off about how… adept he is at killing monsters." The grin he flashes pointedly shows all of his teeth. 

"Hmm. As a point of order, your head remains entirely too attached to your neck to garner much sympathy from me."

"Ah yes, consider me wearily in debt to your pragmatic diplomacy." Astarion falls silent, contemplative look flickering briefly on his face before he reverts to his typical haughty gaze. "How fortunate for me, to have found _company_ quite as uniquely suited to my situation." His tone drips with that affected noble air. He knows good and well that doesn't mean shitting all out here, but he persists to spite Cyderi personally, she's quite sure of it.

"My skills are vast. How _fortunate_ for me that my wit is favored - second only to my tendency to bleed. How _ever_ would I console myself if not useful to you, _my lord_." Cyderi mocks a stilted half bow, sipping calmly from her cup.

Astarion's lip quirks, her only indication of his amusement. He lifts his own tin cup to his lips, grimace in full view as he makes a show of swallowing. 

Studying him, Cyderi leans over, hand outstretched. He passes the cup over with little fuss and she drinks. The wine is not the best, sure - but it hardly elicits the disgust Astarion seems to hold for it. With a shrug she downs the remainder of the drink. His frown lines etch a little deeper at her display and she pointedly ignores him. She hands him back his empty cup. "Here you are, _my lord_. Not poisoned." She nudges his arm with her elbow, and he shies away from the touch. She shrugs, unworried. "Wine isn't your poison of choice anyway, as we so well know."

"Yes, but as my particular poison is in short supply, I have to make do, I suppose." 

Cyderi cuts him a direct stare. "You need to feed?"

"With irritating regularity. Your point?" 

Cyderi squints at him, unsure. "Not here. Come with me." She stands, offering a hand. Ignoring the offer, Astarion stands as prompted before frowning. He follows a few paces behind her as she makes her way to the far bank of the water, before spinning to face him, fingers quickly unlacing her own tunic. "Just try not to bleed me dry, hmm?" 

The high elf stares at her, confusion plain before his typical cocky demeanor falls back into place. "Oh, darling. Desperation is quite becoming on you. I've never met such an eager meal."

Cyderi rolls her eyes, exposing her neck. "Come here then, make use of my good nature while it lasts." 

Astarion studies her slender throat, pursing his lips. "Your neck still isn't quite healed from our first encounter." His thumb brushes against the wound in a slow circle.

Cyderi hums thoughtfully for a tick before pulling an arm entirely out of her sleeve. "This should work fine then." She holds out her forearm, breath hitching softly as Astarion gently takes her wrist. He traces a single finger from the bone of her wrist to the crook of her arm, pausing just above the joint to brush his lips against her dark skin. 

His voice, much like his movements, is unhurried. Even his bite, while sharp, has a laziness to it. She feels like a mouse in the arms of a particularly smug cat. Her balance shifts as he feeds, a lethargic sort of euphoria spreading through her limbs. Cyderi blinks the haze away from her vision, watching him with heavy lidded eyes. She feels herself grow weaker and yet she watches still. Astarion looks up at her through dark lashes before releasing her arm abruptly.

Cyderi collapses against him, blissfully unaware of the scowl darkening his features. She can feel his voice reverberate in his chest. "You're no use to me dead, darling." His words are dripping with sinister purpose as she shakes her head to clear it. 

"I've no interest in dying just yet, 'dah-ling'." Pushing herself off his chest she crosses her arms, leaning against a nearby tree for support. 

"You've gotten better at your lying, but you'll not fool me."

"Oh yes! Master of the ruse you are!" Cyderi snorts. "Red meat. Rare as can be. Dripping." She mimics, her voice a poor imitation of his high society accent. Gingerly pulling her sleeve back into place, she begins lacing the leather ties with clumsy fingers.

"Situational, I assure you. Only need be as convincing your audience is smart." He smiles coldly. 

"Oh you are in rare form tonight." Having finally lost the last telltale tingle of numbness from her limbs, Cyderi stalks towards him. "What have I done to deserve your ire?" 

Astarion waves an arm at her, as if that serves as answer enough as he turns to stalk away. 

"Astarion. We're in this mess together, talk to me." 

He spins back towards her, avoiding her outstretched arm with a small sidestep. "Aren't you just a sweetheart." His voice comes out on a sickly sweet coo… a thinly veiled poison coating his words. "Your kindness will get you killed."

She levels a glare, struggling to maintain composure. "Stay at camp." The words surprise even her. He's come along for most of their outings, only staying behind on his own whim or when other tasks suited his particular talents a bit better than the rest. Dawn brings a new challenge as they head once again into the bog in search of the missing girl. She's planned the trip from the outset with him in mind, and he knows it.

Astarion spins, eyes wide. "What."

"You can stay at camp tomorrow. Lae'zel will join us." Her voice is calm, detached, and even. "You seem to have your own issues to sort through, and being the 'sweetheart' that I am, I'd hate to get in your way."

"You can't be serious." Astarion looks completely thrown by the abrupt decision, foundering for words that doesn't seem to find, if his mounting temper is any indication. 

"Oh, quite serious." She steels herself, glaring his way. "Do not mistake my friendship for foolishness. You are under no contract to accept my kindness, but I won't be mocked for it."

Cyderi turns back to the fire, back to the warmth. Away from Astarion. 

* * *

Cyderi laments few choices she's made, as a general rule. Fishing the broken shards of a crossbow bolt out of her side with a wince she considers the day she's had, wondering if she should amend that particular stance. 

Camp had been quiet when they'd left that morning. Wyll's tent softened the jarring sounds coming from within, as the warlock snored on - content to have a day of rest. Astarion's tent was no where to be seen. Cyderi felt the initial pang of regret for her words the night before, but forced herself to move on brooking no argument from the others. They set out with little issue, finding the bog far less hospitable than their last venture in. Cyderi had whispered a breath of thanks to Ilmater when a cheerful face greeted her instead of a sharp sword. 

Her cheer didn't linger long, the friendly face quickly regaling her with tale of his quarry - a vampire spawn. _Their_ vampire spawn. She'd killed the man with little reservation, but not before he'd gotten off a few good hits with that damned crossbow of his. The crossbow bolt would have been bad enough, but one misplaced spell from Gale sent lightning through her skin, fracturing the wood and nearly killing her. Not her finest moment. Wound festering in putrid bog air, she did regret handing him that scroll a few days back to add to his ever growing repertoire.

Original goal forgotten, the party had quickly traveled back to camp. She and Shadowheart bandaged the damage as best they could before staggering to the closest sigil, but the hunter had been a hell of a fighter. The fight had taken too much time and too many resources, far more than they should have used on a single man. 

A tutting noise sounds over head, and she blinks up, scowling immediately as her eyes lock with Astarion's. "You know, typically one tries to avoid being hit by the enemy, in my experience."

Cyderi is saved from responding as Shadowheart cuts past the high elf to bring a pair of pliers. Nodding with gratitude, Cyderi takes them, eager to pull the rest of the splinters from her wound. "Yes, well I've been meaning to brush up on my more practical skills, no time like the present. - Are we going to ignore the fact that you'd packed up just this morning?"

"Did you at least kill whatever decided to turn you into a pincushion?" Astarion continues on, ignoring her question.

"The decision to become a hunter's pincushion was her own." Shadowheart cuts in, glibly.

"A hunter?" Astarion's eyes narrow.

Glaring daggers at the top of Shadowheart's head, Cyderi answers through clenched teeth. "Yes. And it seems you were his mark. He won't be a problem anymore." She shrugs, earning a reproachful side-eye from the other cleric. Cyderi shakes her head, not willing to revisit their earlier conversation... not willing to reopen that particular wound.

"Oh, I'm sure a slap on the wrist and a good talking too are just the things he needed to give up the gold." Astarion barks out. "Of all the times to make me stay at camp, you do so when I could have killed a bastard hunting me."

"He won't be hunting anything beyond the grave, I assure you. Didn't give up the gold so much as the ghost." Shadowheart remarks, hands gingerly applying pressure as Cyderi chuckles, the laugh turning into a hiss as her hand slips and jars the wound uncomfortably. "For a healer yourself you're an abysmal patient."

Astarion's gaze snaps to Cyderi's face. "Murder? I had no idea you were capable." His tone takes on a heavy lilt as he saunters closer, teeth gleaming in a wide smile. 

At this, Cyderi scoffs. "Don't play the fool. You, out of everyone, know how many we've killed."

"A fair point, if you didn't avoid it at all costs. I'm merely surprised you finally did something sensible, I suppose."

Cyderi levels a cool look at him before returning her attention to her wound. Shadowheart bats her hand away.

"Sensible is a matter of opinion." Shadowheart mutters under her breath, loud enough for Cyderi to hear, and she scowls again as Shadowheart finishes bandaging the wound, bloody rags and splintered wood in her hand as she stands. The half elf turns back to Cyderi with a small half smile. "Do try not to die after the effort I've put in, hmm?" Shadowheart slides past Astarion, eyes cutting towards him briefly as she glides between them. 

Cyderi feels a bit bemused, watching the half elf stride off. She's knocked out of her reverie as Astarion sits on the bedroll directly in front of her. Her frown returns, wider this time.

"Didn't happen to get any information before cutting down mine enemies, did you? Not that I'm complaining, you see. I've just an… insatiable curiosity." His tone is light, nonchalant. 

His eyes betray him. She sees the anger lingering close to the surface, certainly. Cyderi considers using the connection, tapping into the power they'd forbidden themselves from in fear, but as she studies him she finds she does not need an ilithid tadpole to feel the fear radiating off him in waves. Shrugging off her frustration at the distinct lack of answers she's gotten, Cyderi lets out a metered breath and obliges. As she tells him what she knows, she wonders if he was right the night before. Her kindness might not be her downfall but the man sitting before her certainly could be.

**Author's Note:**

> Multiple glitches in this one  
> 1) Visual glitch showing Astarion's happy buff under Cyderi's nameplate. I'm not yucking any yums - she's clearly into being bitten.  
> 2) During the fight, a misplaced witch bolt from Gale caused duplicate damage to proc (same numbers twice) from the crossbow attack from the hunter. (That's what it looked like anyway.) Gale, buddy. Why. - I have the most bad luck with this spell. One day I'll be sensible and stop using it.  
> 3) Astarion not in party - went back to camp and he was just... nowhere. He clearly has his own stuff to do. He came back after a rest like it was nothing, so Cyderi didn't pry.  
> 4) The hunter was nigh invincible in my game the first time I ran across him. He just stopped taking damage, you know - like a jerk.


End file.
